


a euphoric descent

by cosmicwoosan



Series: the sun will rise [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Cocaine, Consensual Non-Consent, Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Heavy Angst, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Making Love, Marijuana, Overdosing, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Past Sexual Abuse, Prostitution, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sad Ending, Smut, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwoosan/pseuds/cosmicwoosan
Summary: Seonghwa said he would follow Hongjoong to the edge of the world, even if that meant falling off of it.-in which Hongjoong guides both of them to freedom.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Past Choi San/Jung Wooyoung - Relationship, Past Kang Yeosang/Kim Hongjoong
Series: the sun will rise [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567120
Comments: 19
Kudos: 203





	a euphoric descent

**Author's Note:**

> well... here we are. the sort of sequel to an ethereal abyss that surprisingly a lot of people wanted. a warning: this piece delves further into hongjoong's psyche/past, which does include heavy implications of sexual abuse/assault/rape, and graphic discussions of those topics. and i'm going to say, seonghwa and hongjoong's relationship is VERY toxic and is purposefully portrayed in a romanticized way to kind of show how messed up they are in the head. please pay attention to the tags for possible trigger warnings. i love you.
> 
> i strongly recommend reading 'an ethereal abyss' before reading this one, as this contains several references to the original fic.
> 
> and just a (fairly unimportant) reminder, seonghwa is younger than hongjoong in this universe. also i've never smoked weed so yeah don't uhhh come for me

The sun is too goddamn bright, Seonghwa thinks.

He doesn't get that much sleep nowadays. Hongjoong had told him not to bring much, since it wouldn't really matter in the end. Seonghwa understood completely. Though he once had everything he could ever want at his fingertips, he was ready to leave it all behind. After all, those things were never his to begin with.

The only thing he had was his own sad excuse for a body.

He wasn't stupid, though. He knew they would need money to get by, at least for some amount of time. Before he left, he broke into his parents' precious safe and took enough to get them by for perhaps a month, maybe two. He figured it would depend on the things they spent their money on. He also figured Hongjoong had some money of his own.

He worried a lot about Hongjoong before they took off. What Hongjoong's previous clients would do, if any of his sugar daddies would go looking for him. After all, he'd left without a note, without any sort of trace besides his DNA, but even then, would people care enough to track down a prostitute? Seonghwa doesn't think so. Hongjoong had packed up all the drugs and money he'd accumulated but nothing else, saying that none of his old possessions would be useful to them.

And with that, their journey into the unknown future began.

-

The room spins pleasantly, rotating on its axis, much like the world, Seonghwa thinks through the haze. He blinks slowly, his vision blurry and his fingertips numb. The bed he's on is cold and stiff, but at least it serves its purpose. He could fall asleep right now. He's calm like this, legs dangling off the edge of the bed lazily. His brain is being kept at bay.

Hongjoong moans next to him, rolling over and curling into his side. "Seonghwa, doll, let's play a little," he mewls into Seonghwa's neck, his breath warm. It smells of cigarettes and alcohol.

"It's pretty," Seonghwa says, blinking again. An invisible smoke appears above him. "This room. It's nice."

Hongjoong giggles, his hand coming up to grip Seonghwa's shirt. "Darling, we've been living in this room for the past few days."

"Oh."

Hongjoong laughs again as he rolls on top of Seonghwa, straddling his torso and leaning down to pepper kisses all along his jaw. "You're so cute when you're high."

"Aren't you?" Seonghwa asks.

"I don't know," Hongjoong says, smiling giddily. "I might be. Then again, when aren't we?"

It's true, Seonghwa knows this. Hongjoong's weed stash back at his old apartment was quite massive. He'd packed it all into one backpack along with a blanket and one of his coats, and that was it. Hongjoong brought _one_ bag with him. Seonghwa brought three.

His cocaine stash was significantly smaller than his weed stash, but Seonghwa didn't care. As much as he loved the high the white powder gave him, being with Hongjoong got him high enough. The weed was enough. Hongjoong had acquired so many different strains and kinds that it was almost like a game, choosing a few grams and seeing what it did. Sometimes they'd mix them. It was fun. Being with Hongjoong was fun.

Being with Hongjoong helps Seonghwa forget.

"Mmm, honey," Hongjoong sighs, "I'm horny. Come on, let's do it."

"Okay."

The sex helps Seonghwa forget. When all he can feel is a lustful fog all around him, permeating his sweaty skin, where all he can focus on is _Hongjoong_ , the beautiful creature he is. Whether he's on top of him, bent over the bed, being pounded into the mattress, _whatever_ , Seonghwa sees Hongjoong as a masterpiece, sculpted by the gods, an angel of sorts. Hongjoong is his savior. His precious love.

He will do anything to protect Hongjoong. To please him. To make him his.

Hongjoong likes to tease. He likes to take his precious time with Seonghwa, kissing him wherever there is exposed skin, honing on on the erogenous zones because he _knows_ Seonghwa's body like it's a map to a valuable treasure. Seonghwa _is_ his treasure. His gorgeous, twinkling treasure made of gold.

At least, that's what Seonghwa _hopes_ he is to Hongjoong.

"God, Hongjoong," Seonghwa moans as Hongjoong lifts his shirt, running open-mouthed kisses down his abdomen. "I love you."

Hongjoong hums, pressing one more kiss just below Seonghwa's navel before slipping onto the floor and tugging off his pants and underwear, revealing his half-hard cock. He kisses the tip of it, pressing his tongue against it and suckling it gently into his mouth.

And that's another thing. Seonghwa loves Hongjoong. Hongjoong doesn't love him back.

Seonghwa is well aware of this. He knows that no matter how many times he tells Hongjoong he loves him, that the smaller man will never say it back. Or, he _could_ say it, but he would never mean it. Hongjoong doesn't _love._ Seonghwa _knows_ this, but that doesn't stop him from loving him.

After all, Seonghwa is used to people not loving him back. One more person won't make a difference.

Hongjoong slides his wet mouth up and down Seonghwa's hardening length, swirling his tongue around its girth. Seonghwa exhales contently, burying his fingers in Hongjoong's coarse hair that has faded over time, from a navy blue to a dull blue-gray. Seonghwa is pretty sure he won't be dyeing it for a while. And that's okay. Hongjoong is beautiful no matter what color his hair is. Seonghwa will still take it in his fingers and do with it as he pleases.

He will tug on it. He will yank it backwards. He will pet it. He will do anything Hongjoong wants him to do with it.

"Oh, fuck, Hongjoong," Seonghwa moans, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."

Hongjoong pulls off with a pop, his sinful tongue still forming circles around the head. "You taste so good, sweetheart. Want you to come in my pretty mouth."

"I'll get there," Seonghwa chuckles, pushing through the slight headache to straighten back up. He looks down at Hongjoong with fondness in his eyes, illuminated by the single incandescent light of the bedside table lamp, one side of his mouth curved up into a smirk. "Let me fuck your mouth."

Hongjoong opens his mouth wide and looks up at Seonghwa expectantly, his _cue_ , Seonghwa has decided to call it. Seonghwa laces his fingers of both his hands in Hongjoong's hair and guides his cock straight into Hongjoong's mouth, not stopping once, and he lets out a guttural moan as he feels the head of his dick reach the back of Hongjoong's throat. Not once does he gag. His mouth and throat are trained for this sort of thing.

Seonghwa tugs on Hongjoong's hair, lifting his head up and slamming it back down, and that's when Hongjoong does choke slightly. His eyelids are heavy, threatening to close as he fights back tears, gagging around Seonghwa's cock. "So gorgeous," Seonghwa praises, lifting Hongjoong's head again, allowing him to take a deep breath. "So gorgeous when you choke on my cock like that."

Hongjoong coughs again, smirking as he wipes his mouth and swipes his tongue across it. "I like it when you praise me. Keep going." He lowers himself back down, engulfing the entirety of Seonghwa's cock in one go. His lips stretch to accommodate the intrusion, his eyes drooping as he slurps around it, purposefully letting the obscene wet noises echo throughout the room.

"So amazing, baby," Seonghwa continues, one of his hands coming back up to curl into Hongjoong's hair. He's a lot gentler this time, letting Hongjoong have most of the control as he bobs his head up and down Seonghwa's cock. "You're so beautiful. So pretty for me."

Hongjoong moans happily, pulling off and licking the base, letting his hand take the rest of his shaft. "Love, allow me to try something different," he says, nudging Seonghwa's legs open further. His tongue travels further down as he tugs on Seonghwa's cock, lips ghosting over his balls and tongue poking into his taint. Seonghwa gasps, his legs twitching involuntarily.

"Hongjoong, are you—"

"If you'll allow me," Hongjoong says, "let me eat you out."

"I... okay." Seonghwa has to take several deep breaths; never in his life did he think he'd be in this position, his legs being spread open with another man between them, asking to eat him out. Then again, he never thought he'd run away with a prostitute. Life is full of surprises, he supposes.

Hongjoong hums as his tongue travels lower, his thumbs pressing into the skin of Seonghwa's cheeks as he spreads them farther apart. He licks one long stripe along Seonghwa's hole, testing the waters, and the younger keens, his knees nearly snapping to close. "Are you alright, darling?" Hongjoong asks, glancing up.

"Y-Yeah. Just feels weird," Seonghwa says, relaxing his legs once more. "You can keep going."

"Here," Hongjoong says, sitting up. He grabs Seonghwa's hands and guides them to the bends of his knees and orders him to hold them up in the air, exposing more of Seonghwa's twitching hole. "Much better."

Seonghwa's face twists in both embarrassment and discomfort as Hongjoong disappears again, resuming his work and prodding his tongue at Seonghwa's entrance. He goes slowly, running his tongue along it teasingly, flicking his tongue upwards and occasionally mouthing at Seonghwa's balls. He hauls himself up, bent at an awkward angle as he hooks his arms under Seonghwa's and slides his hands up his bare torso. "Hongjoong," Seonghwa gasps, the haze barely fading from his eyesight. It's getting hard to breathe.

"Yes, my dear?" Hongjoong asks.

"Want you to... you know," Seonghwa says, lowering his legs as Hongjoong sits up.

"Would you like me to fuck you, love?"

Love.

Seonghwa loves it when Hongjoong calls him love. He figures it's the closest thing to hearing Hongjoong say 'I love you.' Out of all the names Hongjoong calls him, 'love' is his favorite.

"Y-Yes please," Seonghwa murmurs, his cheeks hot and flushing.

"If that's what you want," Hongjoong says with a nod.

"Yes, it's what I want," Seonghwa affirms.

Hongjoong offers him a small smile before retrieving a condom and a bottle of lube from one of Seonghwa's backpacks. "I haven't topped in so, so long," Hongjoong says, smiling to himself as he uncaps the bottle. "Nearly all of my clients want me to bottom, obviously."

"How many times have you, um, topped?" Seonghwa asks.

Hongjoong purses his lips in thought. "Maybe... two? Three?"

"That's..." Seonghwa pauses, suddenly feeling a lot more tired as he looks up at Hongjoong with admiration flooding his veins. Hongjoong is _smiling_ , bless his fucking soul, as he climbs back onto the rickety bed and gently caresses Seonghwa's thigh. He leans back down, nuzzling into Seonghwa's neck to press more kisses there. "Hongjoong."

"Hm?" Hongjoong's hand grazes Seonghwa's chest as he sits back up.

"Hongjoong... use me. Do whatever you want with me," Seonghwa orders firmly, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a deep frown.

Because that's all Hongjoong was ever good for. Being used. Being held down against his will. Torn apart, beaten, fucked to the point where he couldn't think or see straight. Hongjoong was always the receiver. Seonghwa thinks he deserves better than that.

Hongjoong stops smiling. "Seonghwa... why?"

"I want you to," Seonghwa says. "Don't hold back. Hurt me if you want to. I don't care. I'm... I'm all yours."

Hongjoong's lips part slightly, his shoulders sagging as he closes the bottle of lube and sets it down. "Seonghwa, you don't know what you're talking about. You've never been fucked. If I do that to you, you're going to get hurt. It... it hurts."

And Seonghwa will only continue to imagine how much it hurts until it happens to him. If there's anybody he trusts, it's Hongjoong.

"I'll fuck you if that's what you want, but I'm not going to... use you," Hongjoong says.

A compromise. Seonghwa has had to make plenty of those in the past. If this is what it will take for him to understand, even if it's just the smallest of steps, Seonghwa will take it. He nods understandingly, looks Hongjoong dead in the eyes, those dark, soulless eyes with deep bags underneath them, and says, "Then do it. Fuck me."

Like he does every single time, Hongjoong goes slow, takes his time with him, even when it's him who's opening Seonghwa up instead of the other way around. As his fingers move inside of him, Seonghwa can't help but think about the times where he didn't do this for Hongjoong. Where Hongjoong had to do it himself or not at all. The times where Hongjoong's face scrunched up in pain yet his voice told him to keep going. When Seonghwa was too hyper on cocaine to notice how Hongjoong's moans didn't sound quite like moans.

Seonghwa stares up at the ceiling, soft, sharp breaths of air escaping his nose as the discomfort eventually dissipates. When Hongjoong's fingers start to feel like nothing at all. "Seonghwa, dear," Hongjoong says. "Do you think you're ready?"

Seonghwa has never asked him that. He nods. "I need more than that, sweetheart," Hongjoong says tenderly, but Seonghwa knows the weight those words hold.

"I'm ready."

Hongjoong stares into his eyes for several seconds, gauging his emotions, something that Seonghwa knows he's good at but never explicitly says so. The smaller man nods as he pulls his fingers out, promptly tearing open the condom package and rolling it onto his cock. Seonghwa looks at it in astonishment.

He can't remember the last time he'd seen Hongjoong fully hard. Hell, he can't remember if Hongjoong has ever come with him.

"Joong... you're so hard," Seonghwa slurs, head still foggy.

Hongjoong smirks as he rubs more lube onto his cock and lines it up with Seonghwa's waiting hole. "Of course. I get to fuck someone as lovely as you." He presses the tip against the tight rim, and Seonghwa feels the slightest pain as it slowly enters him, his face scrunching up as Hongjoong pushes past his resistance. Hongjoong pauses halfway. "Does it hurt, darling? Be honest."

"A little," Seonghwa admits through gritted teeth. "You can keep going. It's okay."

Hongjoong glances between his legs as he presses forward more until he bottoms out. Seonghwa feels Hongjoong's hips against his cheeks, skin against skin in an unfamiliar place. He gasps as he feels his hole twitching to adjust. "Are you alright?" Hongjoong asks, pressing a kiss to Seonghwa's temple.

Seonghwa doesn't know what he's done to deserve to be treated like this.

He breathes deeply, in and out, and snakes his hand around Hongjoong's head, pulling his face closer. He presses his forehead to Hongjoong's, the tips of their noses brushing. This is what he wants. To feel Hongjoong like this. This close.

"Please, go," Seonghwa whispers against Hongjoong's lips before kissing them, chaste and gentle, just like Hongjoong.

When Hongjoong finally moves his hips, Seonghwa can't help the moan that escapes him. It doesn't even feel that good, _yet_ , but the closeness, the intimacy, the way that Hongjoong locks his eyes onto his and moves with such care, such consideration for another human body... it sits wrong with Seonghwa.

Hongjoong moves so slowly. It's wrong.

"Faster, please," Seonghwa says.

"It's your first time, love," Hongjoong responds, his eyes still on Seonghwa's and his lips barely touching his. "I'm not going rough with you."

And Seonghwa knows there is no way he can convince Hongjoong to do otherwise. He lets Hongjoong fuck him languidly yet deeply, and it's enough to get him riled up, though his head is swimming with so many different things.

It feels amazing, Hongjoong fucking him like this. Hongjoong knows how to please.

But why does nobody ever please him?

Seonghwa ignores the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes when Hongjoong buries his face into his neck once more, teeth shallowly sinking into the skin there. "Love, you feel so amazing. So tight," Hongjoong moans, breath hot on Seonghwa's skin.

"Hongjoong... I love you."

He thrusts harder. Seonghwa throws his arms around Hongjoong's neck, wrapping his legs around Hongjoong's waist and caging him in. "I love you, Hongjoong," he repeats, louder. "God, Hongjoong, I love you so much. Please, _please_ , want you to come."

When Hongjoong moans into his shoulder, Seonghwa sees stars. Even though he doesn't come himself, hearing Hongjoong's blissful noises, of pleasure rather than pain, is enough to send his head into outer space. He doesn't think he's ever heard Hongjoong moan so genuinely.

"Please. Please." Seonghwa knows he's babbling by now, tears falling as his moans grow louder as well, using his legs to propel Hongjoong's cock further into him.

"Beautiful," Hongjoong hisses, followed by another deep moan. "You're beautiful, Seonghwa." He brings his head back to Seonghwa's, catching his lips in another heated kiss, the sharp breaths from his nostrils tickling Seonghwa's nose. Seonghwa, breathless, gasps as he pulls away. "I'm gonna come, love."

"Come inside. Please," Seonghwa begs again, the hold on Hongjoong's hips loosening as he widens his legs to sneak his hand down to his own leaking cock.

"If that's what you want."

Seonghwa nods rapidly, blinking away the tears. "Yes, yes, _please_ , I want it. Want you to come, Hongjoong."

When Hongjoong comes, Seonghwa is hit with a tidal wave.

Hongjoong deserves the whole fucking world. He never deserved to be treated like nothing but a hole. His eyes hold all the stars in the universe; _he_ is the universe. Seonghwa loves him. God, he loves him. His cock is so deep, pressing that special spot inside of him as it twitches, filling up the condom, and Seonghwa doesn't even have to stroke his cock twice to come himself. Hongjoong collapses onto him, panting, face lost on his shoulder, and all Seonghwa can think of is _Hongjoong Hongjoong Hongjoong_ , the true light of his life, his _savior._

His love.

"I love you, Hongjoong," Seonghwa says breathlessly, knowing very well that Hongjoong won't say it back.

As expected, he doesn't. In fact, he says nothing.

He stands up, still heaving, and pulls out slowly, discarding the condom in the motel room's garbage bin.

He disappears into the bathroom without another word. Seonghwa is too busy staring at the ceiling to see his unreadable expression, because that's what Hongjoong is. Unreadable. There are several days, when Seonghwa's head is fully screwed on, where he wishes Hongjoong would just open up, confess everything, his mistakes and sins, his triumphs and victories, but Seonghwa knows that their time is limited. Their time is _very_ limited.

When his head is in the right place, which is very seldom, he becomes aware that this isn't a sustainable way to live. Staying in a dingy motel room, that costs _money_ that they will eventually run out of, smoking and fucking and doing everything to forget the place that they left, the people that they've hurt, and the mistakes that they've made.

But when his head is in the clouds, when all he can think about is Hongjoong, he's happy, or he feels some sort of illusion of happiness, and even though it's temporary, he'll take it.

At this point, he has to take what he can get.

-

One afternoon, while Seonghwa is sleeping, Hongjoong sneaks out of their room and purchases a bottle of whiskey for them to share. Seonghwa doesn't drink as often as he smokes, but he figures his body is already being destroyed, so what's the harm in it?

It's unpleasant, of course. But so is living. Seonghwa will take it.

Seonghwa drinks about a quarter of the bottle, while Hongjoong drinks a little more than a quarter, leaving a little less than half. Seonghwa watches through heavy eyelids as Hongjoong gets up, stumbling as he does so, and retrieves a bag of weed and two wrappers. "Hongjoong... I don't think that's a good idea," Seonghwa says, his words sounding like they're lagging in his head. He's not intoxicated, but he's definitely drunk. Smoking a mystery strain of weed isn't a good idea. He knows this.

But Hongjoong is grinning devilishly, already emptying the bag into the wrappers and pulling out his lighter. "Then I'll smoke both," Hongjoong says, his grin twisting into a scowl in just one second as his brows furrow in concentration. He wraps the weed as carefully as he can while drunk, forming two viable blunts. He offers one to Seonghwa.

The younger takes it hesitantly. "Good boy," Hongjoong says, his smile returning. He giggles (Seonghwa loves that sound) and flicks open the lighter. "You first, dear."

Seonghwa sticks the blunt in his mouth and leans in to let Hongjoong light the end of it. He inhales, the smoke filling his lungs, and exhales, allowing the wisps to expire in the air. He watches with amazement, finding himself smiling at fucking _smoke_ , and lets out a laugh. He laughs. And laughs.

"You sound nice when you laugh," Hongjoong says, taking a hit from his own blunt.

"You sound even better," Seonghwa counters. He's swaying even though he's sitting down. His head is a fucking mess. "Your giggle is so cute, you know that? You're cute."

"So I've heard," Hongjoong says, chuckling before taking another hit. "But thank you, darling."

They sit there in silence as they let the weed run its course through their bodies. Seonghwa has never been both drunk and high at the same time, but when the latter finally presents itself, Seonghwa can't control the words flowing into his brain and out of his mouth. He's laughing at absolutely nothing, his head feeling like complete mush, but it's nice. Hongjoong is nice. Being with Hongjoong is nice.

He loves Hongjoong.

"I love you, Hongjoong," Seonghwa says, slurring his words heavily.

"I know, darling," Hongjoong says, quiet but coherent.

Somehow, Hongjoong always sounds balanced no matter what they ingest. Seonghwa wonders just how he does it.

"I know... I know you'll never love me back," Seonghwa confesses, his words and thoughts escaping him quicker than he can reel them in. "But that's okay! Because... because I'm used to people not loving me back."

"Seonghwa—"

"It's okay, Hongjoong. Even though you probably don't care," Seonghwa continues without even realizing it. "I love you. I don't want you to feel... guilty. They're... your emotions, or like, lack of them. And if you don't love me, or never will, it's okay."

Hongjoong sighs, his sad eyes fixed on Seonghwa's numbly blissful ones. "You deserve love, Hongjoong," Seonghwa says.

"So do you."

Seonghwa blinks and breathes in deeply. He almost forgets to release it. "I think everyone deserves love except me," Seonghwa says with a frown, his tone much more lighthearted than it should be.

Hongjoong scoffs. "Story of my life."

"But Joongie, I _do_ love you," Seonghwa reiterates. "Whether you feel it or not... I can't control that. I can't... do much of anything."

"Honey, you don't love me," Hongjoong says, suddenly solemn. "What you're feeling is nothing but false love because nobody else has shown you affection besides me. It's like what happened with San and Wooyoung, remember?"

A heavy tension hangs in the air. The smoke was already making it hard for Seonghwa to breathe.

He remembers when Hongjoong had asked him to leave with him. Hongjoong had explained everything, told him that San and Wooyoung were his classmates despite him having no idea what their names were because nobody _knew_ them except Yeosang. Seonghwa knew Yeosang. Yeosang knew Hongjoong, San, _and_ Wooyoung. He vaguely remembers Hongjoong mentioning hurting Yeosang in some way. Hongjoong broke the news to him that San and Wooyoung were dead, had _killed themselves_ by jumping off the very bridge Seonghwa once dreamed of doing the exact same thing from.

And despite not knowing their names, Seonghwa couldn't help but feel a sharp ache in his chest. For who, he still doesn't know. But he remembers the sliver of pain in Hongjoong's voice, small but present, a sheer sign that he was still _human._ That he still felt.

Seonghwa knew Hongjoong was angry. As they walked side by side, wandering aimlessly, he saw the way Hongjoong's jaw clenched, his expression constantly agitated even when they were doing absolutely nothing. He didn't know exactly _what_ Hongjoong was angry with, but he also knew that Hongjoong would never admit it. So he watched in silence and never asked.

"Is that... is that not a valid reason to love someone?" Seonghwa asks, barely above a whisper.

Hongjoong shakes his head slowly. "No, Seonghwa. It's not."

Seonghwa sighs. Maybe he's right. Despite his head being a complete disaster most times, he _is_ aware that love has never been a part of his life. That maybe this feeling of validation is coming from Hongjoong calling him beautiful, being willing to fuck around with him, smoke with him, _be_ with him, because Seonghwa has never even received the simplest notions of love in his life. To him, this is the only love he's received.

"Then what is?" Seonghwa asks.

Hongjoong averts his eyes. "Hongjoong... not once in my life did I ever love someone or have been loved," Seonghwa says, his thoughts catching up with him, though his mind still feels like a thick fog. It feels like his entire body is struggling to keep up, but his mind is still pushing through. "If you're not going to love me back, at least let me love you. At least give me that. Please." He can feel the tears returning to his tired eyes, drooping as if he's entering anesthesia, as he feels his entire body slump to the side. Maybe his head hits the floor. He doesn't entirely know. "Please let me love you without telling me that I don't."

He closes his eyes. Breathes. In and out.

"I just want love," he whimpers, lip quivering and eyes fluttering beneath the lids. "I don't care what it feels like."

He hears Hongjoong sigh heavily and feels a hand tangle in his hair. "Oh, my love," Hongjoong bemoans, "you don't know a single thing."

"Maybe I don't," Seonghwa replies, his voice cracking as he swallows thickly, tears forming under his eyelids. "But like you always say... it doesn't matter. Whatever I feel for you, it feels like love."

Hongjoong's small fingers stroke his hair as the tears fall silently, the rest of his body completely motionless. He wants to sleep. He could probably fall asleep like this, slumped over on the floor of a motel with his body curled up against nothing. With Hongjoong's hand in his hair and an unexplainable ache in his chest that will never go away as long as he lives.

"Just let me love you during the time I have left," Seonghwa murmurs into the floor. It smells musty, nothing like Hongjoong.

"Okay, darling."

"Thank you."

But Seonghwa knows Hongjoong doesn't mean it. Hongjoong will never love him. He will never believe that this is love, and Seonghwa has a feeling that he will never feel love because as much as he wants to pretend like he knows what love is, he knows just as little about love as Seonghwa does.

After all, no one has loved him either.

"Hongjoong, have you ever been in love?" Seonghwa asks suddenly as the thought pops into his head.

"No," Hongjoong answers almost immediately. "And I don't believe in it."

Seonghwa hums in acknowledgement. "You don't think San and Wooyoung were in love?"

"Not a chance," Hongjoong says spitefully.

"They were probably the only ones... who felt so strongly like that towards each other, you know what I mean? Like, San was the only one who, um, loved Wooyoung and vice versa. You still don't think that's love?"

"They allowed each other to suffer and in turn, they killed each other," Hongjoong bites, "so no, I don't call that love."

"Then what the hell are _we_ doing?"

And for once, Hongjoong is silent.

Seonghwa sighs, his eyes still closed as he takes one final hit of the blunt before handing it back to Hongjoong. "I'm going to sleep," he announces quietly, to nobody in particular.

As his mind drifts off into a murky, dreamless slumber, he vaguely hears a voice very similar to Hongjoong's saying, "We're trying."

Seonghwa thinks that's the closest thing to the truth.

-

The next time they fuck, Hongjoong tops again, and Seonghwa _insists_ he does what he refused to do last time.

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong says sternly, "it fucking _hurts._ You've bottomed _once,_ and I'm not... I'm not about to do that to you."

"Then... let's come up with a safe word or something," Seonghwa proposes. "If I say it, then you stop. Simple as that."

Seonghwa already knows he won't use it.

Hongjoong sucks in his bottom lip, biting down on it as he says, "Why do you want me to do this to you? Is it because you want to know what it's like to be used? To be _me_?"

Seonghwa averts his eyes bashfully. Of course. Hongjoong can see through almost anybody. He sighs. "Seonghwa, you will never know what it's like to be me."

"That's not going to stop me from trying," Seonghwa says. "Please, Hongjoong. I trust you."

After several seconds of consideration and nervous lip-biting, Hongjoong gives in to Seonghwa's wish. "What's the safe word?" he asks, though Seonghwa can still sense his hesitation and reluctance.

"It's... 'I love you.'"

Hongjoong raises an eyebrow at him. "I-I know it's not a _word,_ technically... but still, if I say that at any point during this, then you stop," Seonghwa says.

Slowly, Hongjoong nods. It takes much longer to get things going, but Seonghwa is determined; he sinks down to his knees and mouths at Hongjoong's cock, another thing that he's never done before, and he can instantly feel the nerves settling in.

He's never even blown Hongjoong before.

"Do you... do you want me to?" Hongjoong asks, and Seonghwa already knows what he means.

"I... um... I've never done this before," Seonghwa says, taking the base of Hongjoong's cock in his hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, love," Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa nods, guilt pooling in his stomach as he licks Hongjoong's cock, his mind falling into place, focused on nothing but wanting to please the man standing above him. He gathers as much saliva as he can, forcing himself down to the base to do so, gagging himself around Hongjoong's cock and allowing pained tears to spring from his eyes. He uses his pain to pleasure Hongjoong, and with that, he takes one tiny step forward into understanding.

"I'm sorry," Seonghwa murmurs as he runs his lips along the length.

"For what, love? You're doing fine."

"I'm sorry that I've never done this for you before. That I've never pleasured you before," Seonghwa elaborates, pressing a kiss to the tip.

Hongjoong smiles a little at that, running his hand through Seonghwa's hair. "It's okay." Seonghwa expects him to say something like 'I'm used to it,' because that's something that seems like the truth and probably is, but Hongjoong won't admit that.

When Hongjoong is fully hard, Seonghwa stands up and stares into his eyes, his tenacious will egging him on as he says, "Hongjoong. Do it. Use me."

Something in Hongjoong seems to snap then as the smaller man grabs Seonghwa by his arms and throws him onto the mattress, his head hitting the stiff mattress uncomfortably. Hongjoong climbs on top of him, hauling him up by the collar of his shirt and yanking it over his head. Seonghwa obliges of course, though the harsh action is rough on his skin. Hongjoong repeats the same process with his pants, practically tearing them off of him, his cock half hard, though he wonders if Hongjoong even gets like this when it happens to him.

"Fucking slut," Hongjoong sneers, and _that_ catches Seonghwa off guard. "Wanting to be used like a little rag doll. Stupid fucking whore."

"I—"

"Shut up," Hongjoong cuts him off abruptly, grabbing him by the throat and pushing him back down onto the mattress, fingers squeezing the sides of his neck. "You're _mine_ tonight, you understand that? All mine. And you _will_ do as I say."

Seonghwa nods helplessly. "O-Okay," he squeaks, because that's all he can manage with Hongjoong's hand wrapped around his throat.

While the one hand stays around his throat, another pinches Seonghwa's nose closed. Seonghwa's eyes widen in shock, his sudden lack of breath forcing him to open his mouth, and the hand that is pinching his nose slips into his mouth instead. "Get them nice and wet for me, alright?" Hongjoong orders. His fingers wriggle around in the back of Seonghwa's mouth. The younger gags around them, coating them with his saliva, and he wonders to himself, _is this really what Hongjoong gets?_

Hongjoong releases his throat but flips him onto his stomach single-handedly, his slick fingers already pressing into his dry hole. Seonghwa keens at the sudden intrusion, his fingers wet with saliva not wet enough, and this time around, it _hurts._ It's not enough.

When Hongjoong's fingers move around inside him, it's nothing like the first time, when the pain and discomfort had quickly vanished. With two fingers only lubed up by spit, Seonghwa doesn't feel prepared at all no matter how much they move to scissor him open. When Hongjoong adds a third, Seonghwa nearly screams, only to be muffled by another hand being clamped over his mouth.

"Don't even try that," Hongjoong hisses. "If you value your life, you'll stay quiet."

That nearly knocks the breath right out of Seonghwa's damaged lungs.

The relief from Hongjoong's fingers exiting him is temporary, because both of his hands seize his waist and drag him to the edge of the bed, effectively being bent over the side of it. Another thing is pressed up against his mistreated hole, bigger, and Seonghwa draws in a sharp, deep breath that actually _hurts._ It pushes into him slowly, and he barely has enough to register that this is actually happening. Hongjoong's cock is pushing into his thoroughly unprepared hole. His fingers dig so hard into the sheets that he can feel them being driven into his palm, probably leaving indentations.

Hongjoong doesn't let up; he drags himself out slowly and presses forward with an unbelievable force, so much that Seonghwa can't help the cry that escapes him. Somehow, luckily, Hongjoong doesn't comment, but he only continues to drive himself into Seonghwa relentlessly at a pace that he is certainly not ready for. It _hurts._

There are already tears spilling from the corners of his eyes despite them being shut so tightly that blots of color burst in his vision. His entire body is screaming, telling him to say 'I love you' just so it can stop, but Seonghwa has a feeling that this isn't even the worst of it.

_This isn't the worst Hongjoong has gone through._

Seonghwa presses his lips together. His teeth are clenched, jaw aching as he tries to contain the noises that threaten to pour from his mouth. Then, Hongjoong's fingers find his hair again, but instead of caressing him, instead of stroking his hair tenderly with care, his fingernails dig into his scalp and he yanks his hair upwards, bending his neck at a harsh angle. Seonghwa whimpers slightly, but instantly shushes himself as Hongjoong only continues to wreck his hole.

"You no-good slut," Hongjoong mutters, slamming into Seonghwa with one particularly rough thrust. Seonghwa yelps then, only to be met with a hard slap across one of his ass cheeks. "What did I say about staying quiet?"

Seonghwa opts for just trying to _breathe_ , because that's all he can do. Breathe. Try. Endure the pain.

He can really only imagine what Hongjoong has been through.

Hongjoong slaps him again and again, his left and his right, until his ass is stinging and his hole is almost numb from the pain. His entire lower half feels like it's been crushed beneath a boulder, but then Hongjoong is pulling out of him roughly and flipping him over onto his back again, not even wasting a second before thrusting into him once more.

Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, his hands useless by the sides of his head as Hongjoong holds them down by the wrist. "Look at me, whore," Hongjoong demands.

Slowly, painfully, Seonghwa opens his eyes to see Hongjoong glaring down at him, eyes fierce and blazing with something Seonghwa has never seen in him. His face twists with agony as Hongjoong only continues ramming into him.

"Such a beautiful little slut," Hongjoong says breathlessly. "Too bad, huh? Too bad you gave up your life for _this_."

Seonghwa's mouth drops open in a silent cry, tears free flowing down his face. "Hongjoong, s-stop, p-please."

Hongjoong doesn't stop.

"I paid for this, you dumb whore," Hongjoong growls. "This is what you get."

And Seonghwa finally realizes what Hongjoong is doing.

Seonghwa would be sobbing if it weren't for the threat. To stay quiet if he valued his life. When he thinks about it, maybe he doesn't. Maybe he does. But even though he knows Hongjoong can stop it at any time, if he'd just _say those words_ , Seonghwa stays silent.

He just knows Hongjoong never had that option. Hongjoong had no choice _but_ to stay quiet.

It makes him wonder, does he value his life? Does Hongjoong value his own?

"Crying, huh? What a fucking pussy," Hongjoong grunts.

And then, Seonghwa feels a sharp sting across his face.

And another. Seonghwa keeps crying.

"Hongjoong, _stop_!" he screeches.

Hongjoong tilts his head back and _laughs._ "You stupid fucking bitch boy. You—"

"Hongjoong, _please,_ " Seonghwa pleads, his face on fire from both tears and the ghost of Hongjoong's hand, "I love you."

Hongjoong's movements come to a sudden relieving halt as Seonghwa breaks down, finally allowing his body to succumb to his sobs. Hongjoong pulls out as Seonghwa heaves with rapid, heavy breaths, trying not to choke on his own cries. "I love you, Hongjoong. I love you, I love you, I love you."

Seonghwa's legs fall as his entire body collapses from the bed onto the floor. Hongjoong is there to catch him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Seonghwa sobs into his chest.

"Don't be sorry," Hongjoong says genuinely, arms tight around Seonghwa's fragile body, hand curled in his hair just like before. Before _this._ "It's not your fault, my love."

_It's not your fault._

"I'm so sorry," Seonghwa says again. His face is completely soaked by his own tears as he shivers in Hongjoong's embrace. He doesn't even know why he's saying sorry.

"You're okay, love," Hongjoong says, his own voice trembling. Seonghwa has never heard it do that before.

"I'm not. I'm not. I'm so sorry, Hongjoong. I love you."

Seonghwa doesn't know when Hongjoong lifts him up back onto the bed. He doesn't know when his clothes magically reappear on his body. He doesn't know when his head stops spinning and instead starts floating, his entire body aching as it shuts down, sending him to sleep.

Hongjoong holds his body delicately yet firmly. His embrace is both warm and cold.

In Seonghwa's head, the words 'I'm sorry' repeat over and over. He still doesn't know exactly what for. Maybe it's because he's shown Hongjoong nothing but what he's used to. Maybe it's because he's only treated Hongjoong the same way as everyone else. Maybe it's because he's guilty now that he knows what Hongjoong has been through, but even then, he's sure that that's not even the half of it.

He wonder how many times Hongjoong has broken down like this. All he knows is that Hongjoong doesn't do it anymore.

But Seonghwa can already distinguish one difference: nobody was there to hold him like this.

-

They don't talk about it. Things return to normal, or, as normal as things can get for runaways with troubled pasts and a backpack full of weed.

Seonghwa is tired. Hongjoong goes out more often than he does, being older with an actual I.D. that can get them booze. He buys them cheap convenience store food and occasionally treats them to takeout from actual restaurants, but very sparingly. After all, they know their money will run out eventually.

Things don't last forever. Seonghwa knows this very well, even when sometimes it may not feel like it. In those infinite moments where his head can rest from those foreign chemicals circulating throughout his body, he feels like he could be like that forever. He would give so much to feel that way for the rest of his life. To feel invincible. Infinite.

After hurting for so long, Seonghwa feels like he deserves the temporary bliss sometimes. The temporary euphoria that feels infinite. It's strange.

Life is strange. Seonghwa doesn't know why he was given it in the first place.

There are several days where he stares up at the ceiling, blinking occasionally, and his body feels like it's levitating. It's actually a bit unnerving, because he feels this way even when his blood is void of any substances. He wonders if his body is finally caving in, finally giving up and submitting to numbness, life's natural anesthesia. He breathes shallowly. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it doesn't. He'll close his eyes and see nothing and wonders what it would be like to feel like that forever.

He wonders if this is what death is like.

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa says, eyes closed and body sprawled out on the bed like a snow angel, "do you ever wish you were dead?"

Hongjoong lets out an amused noise from the armchair a few feet away. "All the time, my dear."

"What's stopping you from dying?" Seonghwa wonders aloud.

"I ask myself that a lot," Hongjoong says. "After all, what am I living for? _Who_ am I living for, and why? I ask myself these a lot, and... maybe the reason why I'm still alive is because I want to find the answers to those questions."

Seonghwa opens his eyes. The dim light stings. "Why does that sound like something out of a self-help book?"

Hongjoong chuckles. "It very well could be in a self-help book."

"I just... I don't know," Seonghwa says. "I wanted to die so much back there. I wanted to just end everything by jumping off that bridge like San and Wooyoung did, but... I could never do it. I don't know why."

"Were you afraid?" Hongjoong asks.

"I think so," Seonghwa says. He blinks and breathes in. It's hard to. "I think I was afraid of how much it would hurt. Or if I would fail somehow and end up permanently injured, but still alive. I don't know."

Hongjoong hums. "If there was a fool-proof way to die, where it was guaranteed you would be dead and you wouldn't feel any pain, would you?"

Seonghwa nods, not even knowing if Hongjoong is looking at him. "Without a doubt."

"Me too," Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa nods again. "Sometimes... I wonder if I deserve a painful death."

"I don't think any death is painless, my dear," Hongjoong says. "But then again, life isn't supposed to hurt, right? So why do both life and death hurt so much?"

Seonghwa has to close his eyes again. His head is starting to pound, and the dull light is hurting him. "Breathing is supposed to feel good, right?" he asks in return.

"Right."

"It hurts to breathe," Seonghwa mumbles, drawing in a breath for good measure. It still hurts. "Am I dying?"

"Perhaps. Then again, we only take so many breaths before we die. So technically, the answer is yes," Hongjoong says. He stands up from the armchair and climbs onto the bed next to Seonghwa, cuddling up against his side. Seonghwa doesn't budge.

"San and Wooyoung died together," Seonghwa says.

"Yes, they did." Hongjoong nuzzles into Seonghwa's neck and throws an arm across his chest. Seonghwa still doesn't move.

"They loved each other."

"They didn't."

Seonghwa blinks. Breathes. "I wonder if it hurt."

Hongjoong's tiny fingers curl into Seonghwa's shirt, holding it loosely. "I wonder... if it hurt when they hit the water like that. I mean, I-I'm sure it physically hurt, but... at least they were together. So maybe it didn't hurt as much," Seonghwa continues.

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong whispers into his neck, pressing a tiny kiss to his skin, "go to sleep, love."

"Okay."

It doesn't take him long. At least he can't feel himself breathing when he sleeps.

_At least he won't breathe when he sleeps forever._

-

They're both drunk when Seonghwa's head completely fucks his mouth over and he asks, "Hongjoong, what happened to you?"

Hongjoong's eyes narrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"Why don't you feel shit?"

Seonghwa's brain is too fuzzy to know the weight of his question. He simply stares straight into Hongjoong's hooded eyes, and as usual, the older's expression is completely unreadable. "Seonghwa, haven't I told you already?"

Seonghwa frowns, shutting his eyes to dispel the slight headache while also trying to remember if he _had_ told him. When he thinks hard about it, he's pretty sure Hongjoong hasn't _told_ him anything. Whatever situations Seonghwa can think about when it comes to the life of a prostitute, he's pretty sure Hongjoong has experienced.

And his family. The reason why Seonghwa feels connected to him in the first place. The first person to know, to _understand_ what it's like to have a family who didn't give a shit about their child and was ready to throw them away to uphold the family name. Had it begun with that?

"Your family was shit, like mine, right?" Seonghwa asks.

Hongjoong chuckles, and Seonghwa wonders why and how he always does it during conversations like these. "Indeed."

"And they disowned you, right?"

"Yeah."

"Why? I don't know if you told me that or not."

Whatever trace of a smile on Hongjoong's face is wiped completely clean. He inhales and exhales deeply, his head tilting back against the bedframe. "My dad's coworker... sexually abused me."

If it was hard for Seonghwa to breathe before, it certainly is now. Hongjoong's eyes stare lazily ahead at the wall, expression neutral and unreadable like it always is despite returning to memories that he probably has tried so hard to forget. "Hongjoong, I'm sorry—"

"What, are you going to tell me not to talk about it now?" Hongjoong asks suddenly.

"I just, I-I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

Hongjoong scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Just like Yeosang."

"What?"

Hongjoong's lips twitch into a tiny, spiteful smile. "Yeosang... he and I had a talk the night you barged into my apartment. Remember that?"

Seonghwa nods slowly, wincing at the memory. "Yeah. I'm, um, still sorry about that."

"I think we're well past that now, clearly," Hongjoong says. "Anyway, I told Yeosang what happened to me, and _he_ was the one who couldn't bear to hear it."

"What do you mean?"

"I told him about me. My father's coworker. And when it became to much for him, he told me to stop."

Seonghwa swallows a heavy lump in his throat. "When it became to much for _him._ " Hongjoong scoffs again, shaking his head. "I can talk about what happened to me without breaking down. I can talk in detail about the things that disgusting man did to me without needing comforting. And yet, whenever I try to talk, _other_ people can't bear to hear it, when _I'm_ the one who had to experience it. Do you know... do you know how fucked that is?" Hongjoong laughs, his upper body shaking as he does, but Seonghwa knows this kind of laughter.

"Do you... _want_ to talk about it?" Seonghwa asks him.

"At this point, love, I don't know anything," Hongjoong says, sighing. "You asked, so I will tell you. That man stole my childhood. My will to live. My dignity, my happiness. He took _everything_ from me the moment he raped me."

Seonghwa grimaces at the thought of it. "And it happened again. And again. And every single time, he whispered about how pretty I was, that I was going to do such amazing things in the future, and then he told me he'd kill me if I made any noise."

_"If you value your life, you'll stay quiet."_

"When I couldn't take it anymore, I told my parents, and that's when they disowned me. Because they didn't want me soiling the family name by throwing around accusations about an important business partner. They took my last name and banished it. As far as I'm concerned, all I have is my first name. Is my name on my I.D.? Yes, but that's because I got it when I was still a Kim. And now... I'm just Hongjoong."

A sharp ache is swirling around in Seonghwa's stomach. As much as he wants to tell Hongjoong to stop, he also wants to give Hongjoong the chance to finally let everything out. Maybe _this_ is finally the moment where he can. He wonders if Hongjoong has ever had the opportunity to.

"I made a living off of what I knew how to do," Hongjoong goes on, his voice growing more and more bitter. "To please people no matter what happened to my body."

Seonghwa braces for impact. "Some people were gentler than others. Some weren't. I've had sex more times than you can even imagine. I've been slapped, thrown around, fucked so hard to the point where I couldn't stand, and I've even had a knife held to my throat. I've bled so many times for people whose names I didn't even know and never learned. And after everything that happened to me, after all the pain, after all the tears I wasted on those people, one day... it just stopped."

"What... do you mean?" Seonghwa asks, terrified of the answer.

"I was doing what you do a lot nowadays. Just lying in bed, staring up at my ceiling, and... my body started feeling like it was floating. It was hard to breathe. And yet, the pain had become so bearable in that moment. After that, it just stopped hurting."

"What stopped hurting?" Seonghwa asks.

"Everything. I became numb." Hongjoong exhales, eyes slipping shut. "The sex started to feel like nothing. The drugs, too. Everything started to feel like nothing."

Seonghwa frowns, his own head turning from Hongjoong's direction to look up at the ceiling as well. "I wonder... if numbness is death for those who aren't dead," Hongjoong whispers.

Seonghwa can imagine it is.

"Death itself isn't numb. Death hurts, I'd imagine. I imagine it hurt when San and Wooyoung died, whether the pain was lessened or not. But for me, for someone who still has a beating heart, who can still breathe... this numbness sometimes feels like death. Maybe that's what death is. Permanent... numbness." Hongjoong sighs deeply, hand falling from his thigh to rest right over Seonghwa's. "I wonder what it will take for my body to just... stop."

Seonghwa's eyes flutter closed as he rolls over. His head slots in between Hongjoong's neck and shoulder. "So you don't feel love because you're numb? Because—"

"Love is such a fickle topic," Hongjoong says. "As someone who feels nothing, love is obviously one of the things I don't feel."

"Both ways?" Seonghwa questions.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, you don't love. I get that. But... do you feel love, like, from other people?"

"People don't love me, Seonghwa," Hongjoong laughs.

"I do," Seonghwa says.

"No, Seonghwa, you don't."

Seonghwa sighs as he wraps an arm around Hongjoong's waist. He closes his eyes. His head still hurts, but Hongjoong's presence is like a blanket, encompassing him, and it's almost as if Hongjoong's numbness is passed on to him. It doesn't hurt as much when he's around Hongjoong. He wonders if that's what love is, though he's pretty sure it isn't.

"Looks like you don't feel love from other people, then," Seonghwa concludes.

He falls asleep. If Hongjoong says anything, he doesn't hear it. He simply breathes as he usually does. It doesn't hurt when he sleeps because he can't feel it, but he knows it's happening. He's still alive. He still loves Hongjoong.

He's damn sure that he will only continue to love Hongjoong as long as one of them is breathing.

-

One night, completely sober, Seonghwa kisses Hongjoong's neck, sometimes biting into the skin tenderly and sucking until tiny bruises blossom. He likes to see them. He kisses over them as soon as they form. He creates more until Hongjoong's neck is littered with them. Hongjoong giggles as he works.

Seonghwa kisses him lower, on his collarbone that juts out, down his chest, teeth barely grazing over his nipples as he descends further, stopping at the band of his sweatpants. He cups the growing bulge with care, kissing it as well before stripping himself of his shirt. "Hongjoong, may I?" he asks, lowering himself again until he's face-level with Hongjoong's crotch.

"Of course, darling."

Seonghwa smirks, lowering Hongjoong's pants and underwear until his half-hard cock springs free. He grasps it lightly and flicks his tongue against the tip, suckling it into his mouth, inch by inch. Hongjoong's fingers make their way to Seonghwa's hair, stroking it gently, _not like before_ , and he sighs contently.

As Seonghwa bobs his head up and down, he lowers Hongjoong's pants further to gain access to the area between his thighs. He massages the tender skin, fingers dancing along his inner thighs teasingly. "My love," Seonghwa whispers, "I want to make you feel good."

"Then do it," Hongjoong says indifferently, but still breathless as Seonghwa's hot breaths stir his cock.

Hongjoong throws his pants somewhere in the room while Seonghwa gets up to retrieve the lube. Seonghwa takes his time, wondering if there has ever been anybody who's taken their time with him, wondering if there was anybody who made him feel _good_ instead of used. If not, Seonghwa wants to be that person. He wants to be the first.

He drizzles lube onto Hongjoong's member and along his thighs, rubbing it into his skin. With one hand, he kneads the skin of his ass and with the other, he strokes Hongjoong's cock leisurely, occasionally sucking the tip as he works a single finger into Hongjoong's hole. Hongjoong lets out a pleased sigh as he spreads his legs further, allowing Seonghwa more access. "You're doing great, love," Seonghwa whispers against his cock.

Seonghwa focuses on nothing but Hongjoong's pleasure, wanting nothing but to make him feel good, feel _loved_ , because maybe _this_ is the only way Hongjoong can feel it.

As Seonghwa thrusts a finger into him, he slowly works his mouth around Hongjoong's cock, going agonizingly slow, wanting Hongjoong to _feel_ this out rather than rushing it. It seems to be doing something, because Hongjoong's thighs start to twitch and the poor man starts to _whine_ , rocking his hips in an attempt to feel Seonghwa deeper in him. "Seonghwa," Hongjoong gasps. "Please, give me more."

"If that's what you want," Seonghwa replies, his tongue running along the underside of his cock.

"Yes, _please_ , please add another."

Seonghwa smiles to himself, squirting more lube onto his second finger and slipping it in along with his first. Hongjoong lets out a sigh of relief but continues to whine and rock down on Seonghwa's fingers. "Seonghwa, m-more, please."

"Ah, be patient, my love," Seonghwa coos, pressing his fingers deeper into him until Hongjoong cries out. "Oh, did that feel good?"

"Y-Yes, Seonghwa, more!" Hongjoong gasps, hips desperately grinding into Seonghwa's hand.

With his free hand, Seonghwa holds one of his hips down, feeling the bone protruding from it. "Shh, calm down, love. Don't rush. Just feel."

Hongjoong is panting with Seonghwa's fingers motionless inside him. The younger is looking up at him expectantly, waiting for an okay, which Hongjoong gives to him in the form of a nod. "I'm going to need more than that," Seonghwa says.

Hongjoong blinks lazily at him. "Please, Seonghwa. Keep going."

"Alright." Seonghwa obliges, resuming his fingers' movements, searching for that one spot from before that made Hongjoong moan so genuinely. He sucks the head of Hongjoong's cock into his mouth, bobbing his head bit by bit until he nearly reaches the base.

Suddenly, when his fingers find the spot, Hongjoong thrusts into his mouth and keens, his hands flying up to grab the pillow he's lying on. "Oh, f-fuck! Right there, Seonghwa!"

Seonghwa moves his fingers at a languid pace but manages to hit Hongjoong's prostate with each thrust. Hongjoong grinds down on his fingers again, writing under Seonghwa's hold, tiny moans and gasps escaping his beautiful mouth as Seonghwa continues to tongue at his cock.

"Oh god, Seonghwa, I'm gonna c-come," Hongjoong moans.

Seonghwa pulls off of Hongjoong's cock and slows his fingers before removing them and releasing his hold on Hongjoong's hip. "God, Seonghwa!" Hongjoong cries, thrusting upwards in an attempt to come. He pants, collapsing back onto the mattress and groaning in frustration.

Seonghwa leans over to the bedside table and opens the drawer, pulling out a condom from the pile they collected. "Can I?" he asks.

"Seonghwa, if you don't get your dick in me in the next five seconds I'm gonna—"

"You're gonna what?" Seonghwa smirks and raises an eyebrow at him, already tearing the condom package open with his teeth.

Hongjoong scowls at him, albeit quite playfully. He doesn't respond, just huffs and spreads his legs even wider. Seonghwa rolls the condom onto his already hard cock, which Hongjoong looks at curiously. "You're already hard?" he asks.

"Hearing you moan so prettily got me like this," Seonghwa says, squirting a dollop of lube onto his hand and stroking himself before lining up with Hongjoong's entrance. "Are you ready, my love?"

Hongjoong nods hastily. "Yes, p-please, just—" He's cut off by a moan that escapes him when he feels Seonghwa pushing into him.

It's slow. Everything is slow. It takes Seonghwa a lot of resolve to go as slowly as he does because Hongjoong's tight heat practically sucks him right in, wrapping him up. It's a strangely new feeling. Hongjoong's chest is heaving, glistening with sweat as he gazes up at Seonghwa, whose brows are furrowed in concentration. While Seonghwa has been inside him plenty of times, it's never been quite like this.

Seonghwa stills himself as soon as he bottoms out, holding his gaze on Hongjoong, Hongjoong himself, his eyes, his face. Everything. Hongjoong. Seonghwa loves Hongjoong. They breathe together, as one, their breaths heavy with lust.

Hongjoong nearly screams when Seonghwa finally moves.

The younger leans down, pressing his forehead against Hongjoong's as he moves inside him, hips rocking gently into him but cock hitting deep. With each forward thrust, Hongjoong lets out tiny moans. They're like music to Seonghwa's ears.

"Oh, my love," Seonghwa sighs as his lips latch onto Hongjoong's neck again. "You feel so amazing. _You're_ so amazing."

Hongjoong whines _again_ , something that Seonghwa doesn't hear often but is now hearing almost every second. "S-Seonghwa, I..."

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa says, pushing himself up again and laying a single kiss on Hongjoong's lips. "I love you. So much."

Hongjoong's eyes almost seem to scrunch up. His mouth is parted, sharp gasps leaving them with each of Seonghwa's thrusts. Seonghwa snakes one of his arms underneath Hongjoong's thigh, hoisting it up and propelling himself even deeper into him. Hongjoong throws his head back, letting out particularly loud moan. "Fuck, Seonghwa!"

Seonghwa doesn't look away for a second, his eyes trained on Hongjoong's. They're closed, scrunched up in extreme pleasure rather than pain, but once they open, Seonghwa sees them.

Tears.

There are tears in Hongjoong's eyes.

"Please, Seonghwa," Hongjoong begs, "w-wanna come. Please make me come."

Seonghwa nods as he reaches down to Hongjoong's wet cock, slick from lube and precome, and strokes him. The glide is easy, his cock practically slipping in Seonghwa's hand. "Oh, god, I'm so close," Hongjoong chokes out.

"Come for me, Hongjoong," Seonghwa says. He doesn't look away.

When Hongjoong comes, Seonghwa thinks it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen. He feels Hongjoong's come splash onto his hand, and he strokes him through it, until his moans reach a peak and his entire body is lifted off the bed. He gasps for air as he comes down from his high, and Seonghwa's movements come to a slow stop.

Seonghwa looks down at him with nothing but admiration in his eyes.

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong gasps once he's able to catch his breath, "did you—"

Seonghwa smiles and shakes his head, already pulling out of Hongjoong. Still hard, he peels the condom off and tosses it in the bin, rolling over and letting out a deep breath. Hongjoong gapes at him, confused. "Seonghwa, what are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you... don't you want to come?" Hongjoong asks.

Seonghwa shrugs and shakes his head. "I wanted to make you feel good. Did I?"

"Well, y-yeah, but—"

"Then that's it," Seonghwa says. "I don't need to come."

"B-But—"

"It's okay, Hongjoong," Seonghwa reassures, already slinging an arm around Hongjoong's shoulders. "You deserve to feel good."

"Seonghwa, at least let me make you come," Hongjoong argues, but Seonghwa is already shaking his head.

"No, Hongjoong. There's no need. I wanted to make you feel good, and I did. I don't want to come, I wanted to make _you_ come. And I did. Let's just go to sleep, okay?"

They stare at each other, Hongjoong in disbelief and Seonghwa fully enamored. Hongjoong's eyes are still glossy with the remnants of his tears, but Seonghwa just smiles and cups his cheek.

And that's when Hongjoong's lip begins to quiver. Seonghwa's thumb brushes just beneath his eye, and that's when a tear falls. And another. "Seonghwa, I... I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Seonghwa says, already wiping away Hongjoong's incoming tears.

Hongjoong's entire face twists in such a beautiful way. He cries. He collapses into Seonghwa's open arms and sobs, his naked body trembling with _years_ of pent up tragedy, finally being released. He shakes so violently that Seonghwa has to tighten his arms around him more than he normally would. He presses a kiss to the crown of Hongjoong's head, hair smelling of musk and cigarettes. "I'm sorry, Seonghwa," he wails, and Seonghwa shakes his head again.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Seonghwa repeats, his hand stroking Hongjoong's hair much like he does to him. "I love you, Hongjoong. Even if you may never love me back."

Seonghwa hadn't expected Hongjoong to say it back, and surely enough, he doesn't. But having Hongjoong crying in his arms feels like _something_ , perhaps just the slightest chip in the wall that Hongjoong built around himself. Perhaps Seonghwa had made a dent in it.

And he swears to himself that he will continue to make sure Hongjoong feels good, _loved_ , during the time that they have left.

In the back of his mind, he will still hope that Hongjoong says he loves him back one day, but for now, he will take what he can get.

-

Seonghwa comes to the conclusion that the one thing he isn't giving up on is Hongjoong. Other than that, there isn't really anything left.

He continues to pleasure Hongjoong without reciprocation, and each time, Seonghwa swears he gets more beautiful.

Hongjoong hasn't cried again since the first time, but that's okay. Seonghwa doesn't mind. Whether Hongjoong cries or not, he is still beautiful. Seonghwa still loves him and will continue to love him until the day he breathes his last breath.

As the days dwindle by, as the months get colder, Seonghwa finds it harder and harder to breathe. Every night, as he stares up at the ceiling waiting for Hongjoong to return from shopping, his chest hurts and his lungs feel like they're being pelted by stones. Is it because of how much weed he's been smoking? He doesn't even smoke Hongjoong's cigarettes.

Why is it so hard to breathe?

Seonghwa finds himself sleeping a lot more as well. Every single time, he wakes up. He dreads it. Sometimes, Hongjoong is there, and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes, Hongjoong comes back with booze, and sometimes he doesn't. The sun rises and sets. The night comes and goes. Life continues on. Seonghwa keeps breathing. He never stops telling Hongjoong he loves him.

They smoke a lot. Hongjoong's weed supply almost seems endless, but Seonghwa knows that's not true. They will run out, just like they will run out of money. Seonghwa wonders which they will run out of first.

As the days disappear, Seonghwa notices something off.

Hongjoong is gone more often than not. Even when Seonghwa sleeps most of his days away, Hongjoong is only there _sometimes._ He's not there as much as he used to be, and Seonghwa can't believe it's taken him this long to notice.

One night, the room is pitch black. Seonghwa's mind is occupied with all sorts of possibilities, where Hongjoong is, what he's been up to behind his back, and when the door creaks open and the light from the motel hallway shines through, it becomes clear.

It smells heavily of cigarettes and something else when Hongjoong enters the room. Seonghwa immediately sits up and switches on the lamp, the breath nearly knocked out of him once he sees it.

Hongjoong limping to the bathroom, the left side of his face wrecked in blood and bruises. He turns to Seonghwa, clearly not expecting Seonghwa to be awake, and Seonghwa can see the nervous lump he swallows. "Hongjoong... what the hell?"

"Seonghwa, don't—"

Seonghwa stands up and rushes to Hongjoong's front, grabbing him by the shoulders. "What the hell happened to you?" he shouts, guiding Hongjoong into the bathroom and switching on the brighter light. It doesn't hurt this time. As soon as the light shines on his injuries, Seonghwa feels like vomiting.

There's dried blood underneath his nose, his left eye bloody and bruised, deep reds and purples painting his face. His lip is split down the middle, cracked, chapped, and bleeding as well. It seems as if his left eye is swelling. "Hongjoong, what happened?" Seonghwa demands, already scrambling to open the cabinet behind the mirror for the first aid material. "And don't you dare lie to me!"

Hongjoong sighs but doesn't respond as Seonghwa turns on the faucet and begins tending to his wounds. Hongjoong lets him, though Seonghwa's angry breaths are hot on his face. Breathing has never been so easy.

Seonghwa bites the inside of his lip as he dabs at the blood. "Hongjoong, you better tell me what happened."

Hongjoong stares straight ahead at nothing in particular. Seonghwa has wiped away nearly all the blood and is left with his swollen eye, and what now looks to be a swollen lip as well. "We need ice," Seonghwa says. He storms out of the bathroom and rummages through one of his bags, pulling out enough money to buy more first aid. Hongjoong stands in the doorway to the bathroom, his expression having returned to the same lifeless, unreadable one that Seonghwa had grown used to.

Without another word, Seonghwa leaves the motel, out into the cold, and stops in the nearest convenience store, praying they have ice packs.

Later, with Hongjoong pressing one up to his face and Seonghwa lying next to him in bed, the silence finally breaks.

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong says, "how do you think we've been getting by this entire time?"

Seonghwa frowns and turns in Hongjoong's direction. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you really that dense? We've been at this motel for a long time, Seonghwa. It costs more money than we have to stay here this long," Hongjoong says, and Seonghwa can feel the pit in his stomach growing. This can't be it. "I've been... earning us money."

"What... how?"

"What do you think?" Hongjoong snaps back.

Seonghwa's mouth falls open. It feels like his world shatters around him. Hongjoong. His world. Shattered.

Hongjoong has shattered.

"No. You... you did _not_ go back to doing that!" Seonghwa exclaims, rolling off of the bed and standing up. "You did _not_!"

"It's quite obvious that I did," Hongjoong mutters, refusing to look Seonghwa in the eye. "It's the only thing I'm good for."

Seonghwa shatters.

"It... it is _not_ all you're good for! God, Hongjoong, I thought... I thought you were getting better! I thought things were—"

Hongjoong scoffs and laughs, shaking his head, wincing slightly with each motion. "You're so naïve, Seonghwa. In case you've forgotten, we're _runaways._ We don't fucking exist anymore. How the hell are things supposed to get _better_?"

Seonghwa just gapes at him, the reality setting into his bones, that they _are_ runaways. That their names have been erased from history, that they're just barely getting by. Seonghwa had completely lost track of how much money they had, and had been completely unaware that their money had been diminishing for a long time now. So much so that Hongjoong had to go back to _that_ , the _only thing he's good for_ , just to supply for the both of them.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa had been sleeping, smoking, and barely breathing.

"Sometimes... I wonder why I even bother," Hongjoong sighs, his eyes landing on the dirty bathroom floor. His shoes are worn out, much like the rest of his body. Seonghwa remembers when he used to look like this, so _small_ , though he had always been nothing but a masterpiece to him. But now, with baggy clothes and a bloody face, Seonghwa is hit with reality, that _this is what Hongjoong is, has always been_ , and suddenly, it's even harder to breathe. "What's the fucking point if we're just living in a shitty motel and smoking all the time? What's the point in continuing to get money like this just to spend it on booze and weed? God, I just..." He stops there, his lip beginning to quiver again, something Seonghwa has noticed as a habit, a telltale sign that his emotions are poking through his stone wall.

"Hongjoong, I... I'm sorry," Seonghwa says, not knowing what else to say because he _can't._

He's never felt so fucking useless, even during all the times he's wanted to throw himself off that god forsaken bridge.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry," Seonghwa repeats like a mantra, tears immediately flooding from his eyes.

Hongjoong does not say it's okay. He does not say that he has nothing to be sorry. Instead, he watches as Seonghwa cries into his knees pressed into his chest and says, "It can't be helped."

"It can be helped, if I would just fucking die already!"

"Seonghwa, just shut up," Hongjoong says, tone laced to exhaustion.

"It's already so hard to breathe," Seonghwa hiccups, shaking his head at nothing as his entire body quakes with sobs. "Why aren't I dying already?"

"Seonghwa, shut _up_!"

His chest is on fire. His nostrils are clogged with snot and the reality, that _Hongjoong would be better off if he died_ , and now Hongjoong can't even listen to him speak anymore. He's completely, utterly useless.

Unlovable. That's what he is.

Hongjoong stands up, quite abruptly for someone still injured, and grabs his wallet, now freshly packed with notes from a disgusting human being. He slips on his crummy shoes, laces barely holding them together, and swings the door open.

"Where are you going?" Seonghwa manages to ask.

"Out."

"Are you coming back?"

Seonghwa can see the way Hongjoong's shoulders sink. He doesn't even look back, just gazes ahead at the room across the hall and says, "I don't know."

He slams the door shut without another word.

There's a category five hurricane swirling around in Seonghwa's body, destroying everything in his wake. His lungs have never felt so damaged, his internal organs _begging_ to stop, to just _die already_ , beacuse Hongjoong is exhausted, _he's exhausting Hongjoong_ , he's _hurting Hongjoong_ just by being alive and taking up resources and space.

_He's hurting Hongjoong._

He's hurting Hongjoong, his love, his _savior._ Seonghwa thought Hongjoong had saved him. Perhaps, deep down, he hoped he could save Hongjoong too.

_It was never that way._

He wonders why Hongjoong cried when he fucked him like that. When he touched him in a way that wasn't selfish, that wasn't filthy or perverted like Hongjoong is used to. If he wasn't saving Hongjoong, _what was he doing?_

Seonghwa shakes his head harder, his neck beginning to hurt just like the rest of his body as he stands up and paces around the room, burning tears free-falling from his eyes. He's useless. _So useless._

Without thinking, he kneels at Hongjoong's backpack, shuffling through the bags of weed to see if he has any of the white powder left. Maybe it will cause his racing heart to beat even faster and eventually stop it. Seonghwa doesn't even know if that's how it works, but it's worth a try.

He's shocked to see another white substance, but it's not cocaine.

He pulls out a bag of pills, circular and white. The bag itself is just a sandwich bag, half full with the tablets. There's a sticky note attached to it in handwriting that Seonghwa knows is Hongjoong's.

_"For when it all becomes too much"_

If Seonghwa didn't think it was already hard to breathe, he certainly feels that way now.

~☾~

_He breathes shallowly, his insides churning as his vision blurs, body completely limp against the mattress. His head feels like it's being smashed into a thousand tiny pieces, when he feels something land next to it. He blinks, trying to identify the object tossed in front of him._

_The man is buttoning up his blazer when he looks over and smirks. "To help you out."_

_"What is it?" he slurs._

_The man's smirk doesn't leave. "If your way of life ever becomes too much, those things will send you right to sleep. Take the whole bag, and maybe you won't have to come back to it."_

_He blinks slowly and reaches out, taking the bag in his nearly comatose grip. "Maybe?"_

_The man chuckles, gruff and hardy. "Nah, definitely."_

_He lets out deep sigh and lets his tired eyes slip shut. He thanks the man silently as his suitor walks out, shutting the door quietly behind him._

~☽~

Seonghwa is shaking.

Pill after pill, his throat dries. He feels like he's choking on them. Each one starts to feel like a rock in his throat, rough and heavy, but he plows through it, ignoring the shaking, the pounding of his heart because _it will stop soon enough._

When the bag is empty, he slumps over onto the carpet and stares at the beige-colored wall. He swears he's felt like this before.

He waits.

He waits for the world to explode, to devour him completely and rid itself of him, because he had been an abomination from the start. He's certain his parents wouldn't even know, or _care_ , that he's gone, because he's already dead to them anyways. To them, he died the day he ran away with Hongjoong.

Hongjoong, who now can't stand him. His only reason to live.

He realizes that he's robbed Hongjoong of his gateway, his surefire way to Hell. These pills had been a gift, from who, Seonghwa doesn't know. But he figures that it's better him than Hongjoong, because Hongjoong needs to continue, needs to live on without him. Hongjoong is better off without him anyway.

In a way, he's glad. He's glad that he took the pills. He wonders if it'll hurt, as the clock ticks and the seconds turn into minutes. Seonghwa doesn't keep track of the time. In fact, he loses it the moment his head begins to spin despite not even moving, despite his head being flat on the ground, his stomach churning.

His heart feels like it's bursting, and maybe it is. Maybe his body is trying to get rid of the toxins, _whatever they are_ , and in the process, it's destroying itself.

_Good._

With the last remainder of his strength, Seonghwa rolls into his back and lets the world swirl around him. He lets it engulf his brain, just like the waves had consumed San and Wooyoung's hopeless bodies, knowing that _this is it_ , perhaps he'll choke on air or vomit or nothing. Hopefully, he'll be dead.

And suddenly, he breathes with little difficulty, a breath of fresh air, and Seonghwa wonders if it's because it's his last.

☼

There have been several moments like this, where Hongjoong zones out into whatever he's looking at and remembers his old life. The one he'd been given, one of prosperity and wealth, fortune and promise, a family and a home to come back to. He remembers it fondly, vividly, even, but then again, he remembers everything vividly. He's quite surprised by how good his memory is considering he's tried numerous times to forget, whether it be from consciously trying to repress the bad times or numbing his brain with the drugs.

Sometimes, breathing hurts. Other times, breathing is easy. Hongjoong knows breathing is supposed to feel good. After all, it hurts when one holds their breath for too long. To take a breath after holding it for so long is relieving. It stops the pain.

There have been several times where Hongjoong wonders if it works both ways. If the stopping of breathing after hurting for so long is the sole way to end the pain.

Certainly, San and Wooyoung must have felt this way.

Perhaps Seonghwa did as well.

Hongjoong knows there are a lot of ways to stop breathing. Possibilities are endless if one tries hard enough. He hadn't meant for Seonghwa to find his way out. He hadn't meant for Seonghwa to realize that he was barely holding on, holding on for _him_ , because Seonghwa was the only person who relied on him.

Before, it had been Yeosang. And before Yeosang, it was San.

He'd hurt Yeosang. San is dead.

Hongjoong closes his eyes.

"Yeosangie... how are you?" he asks.

The waves seem calm. Too calm.

"I hope you're well. I hope that your friends are getting better."

He shivers. The wind picks up. It's cold. The water stirs beneath him.

"I'm sorry that I... that I hurt you like that."

His fingers are numb. They're so cold that they feel like they're on fire.

"I hope it doesn't stay with you. I don't... I don't want you to hate me. You meant a lot to me. Every word in that letter I left you with, I meant all of them."

He sighs, his breath forming a cloud of vapor that vanishes into the wind.

"Seonghwa... he's okay. I think he's finally found peace now."

His chest aches.

"It was hard, seeing him like that for so long. He said he was having a hard time breathing. And now, he's finally breathing."

He blinks, ignoring the unfamiliar feeling behind his eyes. It's useless.

"Turns out, he and I didn't make it that far. I was able to walk here in just a few hours. I'm surprised no one came after me, but then again, who's going to chase after a prostitute? I know—" He cuts himself off once he realizes his mistake.

"Ah, no. Seonghwa was the only one who chased after me."

He looks up at the sky. It's overcast, like a lot of winter days. "Seonghwa always said he loved me. I always pushed it aside because I never believed in love. Love was something I never felt, was never interested in."

He chuckles coldly to himself, but his mouth remains in a tiny smile, or something like it. "Whatever Seonghwa felt towards me... it was the end of him. It ultimately led to his destruction, just like San and Wooyoung."

The wind seems to howl in response. He wonders if it's San and Wooyoung.

"Love... can either make or break a person, I think. Seonghwa said he would follow me to the edge of the world, and... I guess he did."

He glances down at the endless blue.

"It's so fucked up, I know. I just left him there, but at least I called someone. Didn't leave anything else. No name, no location. I'm sure they had to track the call. It was from the payphone in the motel lobby." He pauses, chuckling to himself again. "I remember you telling me a similar story... but your friend lived."

He hopes that friend is okay now, or is at least getting better. Knowing Yeosang, he's sure that the friend is in good hands.

"I'm sure they'll come looking for me since I'm the one who left everything there. They'll find all the weed, the evidence, my DNA, everything... but just like San and Wooyoung, we were nobodies. We never existed." He pauses again to think. "Sure, they'll come looking for me. Hell, they could be here any minute now. But..."

He tilts his head up, closing his eyes and letting the breeze blow his hair back. "They won't find me. Even if they do, they will never know the full story. But I know you do. You know the full story."

The wind blows his tears away. They freeze onto his face. "But for your sake, Yeosangie, I hope that you never have to tell it. I hope... I hope that you don't even find out how the story ends. These stories, these truths... they were never yours to tell, and they never will be."

He's weak. He's exhausted. His bones have been supporting him for far too long. His skin and blood had healed his wounds over and over, time and time again. His entire body had wanted him to live because that was what it was built to do.

His fingers loosen around the railing.

He closes his eyes. For some reason, he sees a ceiling.

"San and Wooyoung... maybe they were in love after all."

The wind blows, his lungs graciously accepting the breath of fresh air as he slips.

Time seems to slow. He wonders if this was what it was like for Seonghwa. For San and Wooyoung.

He'd always said to himself and everyone else around him that there was no such thing as a painless death, but one where he could finally escape an endlessly painful life, a stark contrast in the ways of the universe...

Maybe there is such a thing after all.

**Author's Note:**

> ah. well. here we are.
> 
> this probably wasn't the ending anybody wanted. but it's the one i came up with.
> 
> i'm curious to see what your responses are. kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. i'd love to hear what everyone's interpretations of this ending are :)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


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